


Don't Let Weasels Get Drunk

by alec, xiaoyy



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Awesome Art by an Awesome Person, Collaboration, Drinking, Established Relationship, M/M, Wereweasel AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 07:37:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8154284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alec/pseuds/alec, https://archiveofourown.org/users/xiaoyy/pseuds/xiaoyy
Summary: "Yeah. You remember Merida's party last night?" Jack nodded, eyes still somewhat unfocused. "You got completely plastered, danced with four people at once, left this hickey on my neck, and then passed out in her front lawn. But after I carried you back home, you shifted at the front door and then were wide awake for a couple hours after that."
"Oh." Jack laid back down and drew the covers up over his head again, clearly determining that this wasn't a large enough problem that it needed to be addressed right now. And also that there were no pancakes for him to eat, either. Defeat meant little to Hiccup. Jack was pretty severely hungover, and there were other aprons still in the kitchen. He'd just get his favourite one from him when Jack was sober enough to clean up the kitchen.





	

"Jack."

Muffled sounds were the only response as the mass of blankets shifted atop what was once a clean sofa. Mid-morning light peeked in through the curtains and danced across the cloth with the wrinkles.

"Jack." This time there was more force behind the word, and Hiccup pushed gently at the boy's shoulder—or, what was probably his shoulder. That garnered a more satisfactory response, noises of annoyance and protest coming from the blanket. Judging from the flailing as well, there was a more concerted effort to physically make the disturbance go away as well. Or, it was Jack readjusting to having human limbs, which was often the case do after he passed out while shifted.

"Jack, I'm not trying to make you get up. Just tell me what you want for breakfast."

Which was definitely the right set of words to use, as a crown of white hair poked its way through the haphazard pile and didn't even require prompting not to mumble into the backside of the sofa when he said "pa'cakes." Hiccup smiled fondly, putting his hands on his thighs and raising himself from his crouch. He rubbed Jack's head, feeling his boyfriend press back into his palm, before ruffling the hair and heading towards the kitchen.

He braced himself, crossing the threshold with his eyes closed, before opening one. For Hiccup having left a blackout-drunk rambunctious weasel to have free reign over the apartment, there was surprisingly little damage done to the kitchen. Not that there _wasn't_ damage, nor that there was just a little. But compared to what it was when Jack normally went crazy, Hiccup was getting off easy. There was something that looked like cocoa powder—yeah, that's the bottle of cocoa powder—there was cocoa powder spilt on the floor in a giant pile, dashed across the floor with tiny brown footprints trailing from it all over everywhere. But the kitchen knives hadn't been knocked off the counter this time and left scattered across the floor in the dark, so Hiccup wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

First the bowl, then the box from the pantry, then the bag of sprinkles, _then_ the tube of cookie dough because Hiccup was honestly the best boyfriend Jack was ever going to get, then the measuring cups, then the—

"Jack?"

There was no response.

"Jack. Wake up."

There was grumbling at first, but then it took on a happier note after a moment. "S'are th' pa'cakes done?"

"No, not yet. But do you know where my apron is?"

"Y'ur aipom?"

"No, my apron. That I wear when I'm cooking? The green and black one?"

"I'unno, 'ic'up. Washer? Why're you asking me?"

"Because there are cocoa pawprints all over the front of the oven and the other aprons and a bunch of powder lines leading from there to the doorway."

"Pawprints?"

"Yeah. You remember Merida's party last night?" Jack nodded, eyes still somewhat unfocused. "You got completely plastered, danced with four people at once, left this hickey on my neck, and then passed out in her front lawn. But after I carried you back home, you shifted at the front door and then were wide awake for a couple hours after that."

"Oh." Jack laid back down and drew the covers up over his head again, clearly determining that this wasn't a large enough problem that it needed to be addressed right now. And also that there were no pancakes for him to eat, either. Defeat meant little to Hiccup. Jack was pretty severely hungover, and there were other aprons still in the kitchen. He'd just get his favourite one from him when Jack was sober enough to clean up the kitchen.

* * *

"Holy crap, Hiccup. How are you hands this cold?" Hiccup felt the instinctual recoil from Jack, though his boyfriend seemed to be trying to brave out the cold for his sake. "Don't you normally wear gloves?"

"Yeah, normally. I should have a pair in this coat, but they disappeared after I got back from the library yesterday. At least, I think they did. I _think_ I brought them home with me. But I must have put them on the chair by the door rather than in my coat pockets."

The barista at the front of the line called for the next customer, and Hiccup took his hands from Jack's and walked to the counter, making sure to stress how incredibly hot he needed his drink to be. Tucking his hands into the pockets of his coat had done little to guard against the frigid Pennsylvanian winter, and they still had to walk back home in a couple of hours. When it was going to be even colder.

* * *

"HICCUP!" Jack screamed in alarm.

The bedroom is mostly destroyed by the time Jack walked through the bedroom door, still wearing his shoes and in a deep panic after hearing what sounded like a fight and Hiccup's own panicked voice.

Hiccup looked up, eyes watering and lip quivering as he let the mattress fall back down and clang against the box spring before sinking to the floor and looking down at his thighs. He kept his composure until Jack wrapped his arms around his shoulders. Then he broke down entirely, a lot of almost-words falling out of his mouth in a jumble of nonsensical. Jack just cradled Hiccup's head in a hug and let Hiccup get what he could out of himself as he was able to.

"He— I can't— find Toothless," Hiccup managed after a few minutes. Jack frowned and looked at their destroyed bed, knowing that a quick scan over the wreckage was not going to let him find something that a thorough search by his boyfriend hadn't accomplished. Jack put his head back down, resting his cheek against his boyfriend's forehead and running his hands up and down Hiccup's back.

"We'll find him, Hiccup. I promise. You didn't take him out of the house, and nobody from the party came in here last night—"

"—how do you know that?"

"Because it was with people we trust, and who are our friends, and we told everybody to not come in here."

"But we kept everybody's coats on our bed. Toothless must have fallen in someone's jacket and then—"

"Hiccup, nobody would be able to walk off with a large stuffed animal in their coat without knowing about it."

"Then someone must have taken him!"

"Hiccup, nobody took him. He's missing right now, and I know how much that devastates you, and we're going to scour every inch of this apartment because he _didn't_ leave the apartment and he's _going_ to be in here somewhere. I promise."

Hiccup sniffled, knowing that his boyfriend was right but struggling all the same to get his hopes up.

* * *

"Oh my God, if I look at another differential equation, I think I'm going to throw somebody out of a window."

Hiccup looked up over the thick rim of his reading glasses as Jack threw the book down on the library table in front of him, Rapunzel giving him a glance from the side while Merida didn't even bother flinching.

"The test is on Monday," the redhead said, twirling her pencil around her thumb.

"Yeah, and you know what? I'll fuckin' take it. Bring it on, Stevenson. I'll integrate your multivariable eigenvectors all the way up your ass."

"I'm going to hope for your sake that you're aware those are two wildly different topics."

Rapunzel outright growled, slamming her book shut, which actually managed to make the other three—and a freshman couple two tables over—start in their seats. "I'm with Jack. I'm done with this and I'm not going to learn anything more if I push myself another hour tonight. It's Friday, I've given up my evening for calculus, and squinting at her awful handwriting for four and a half hours took the last bit of Christmas cheer I had. I'm done."

Hiccup set down his pencil, stretching his back for the first time in hours and doing his best to hide the pleasured moan at the sweet relief. "What's got you all riled up?"

"Botched my French exam this morning, I spent an hour explaining oxidation-reduction reactions to a class full of inattentive students, and now Eugene's ex girlfriend is sending him drunk texts." Deep breath, then release. "I'm fine—" more to calm herself than anything "—I'm fine. I'm just done for tonight. I'll study more tomorrow, but in the meantime, I'm going down to the E to get a drink."

Jack perked up at the mention of alcohol, closing his book with a single motion that turned into a full-body stretch. "I'm joining you," he said as he began packing his backpack alongside Rapunzel. Jack looked to his boyfriend, raising a questioning eyebrow at Hiccup's stationary form.

"I'm gonna stay here. I've got one more chapter after I finish this one, and if I can just get it done tonight I'll actually be able to enjoy the weekend."

Merida chose that moment to look up, and Hiccup was suddenly aware that she was barely lucid. Her eyelid twitched and her face looked as though she were in a fugue state, but judging from her lack of movement Hiccup gathered that he would have a partner in studying late. Even if she happened to be mostly comatose.

"Suit yourself," Jack said with a kiss to the top of Hiccup's head, and the younger man smiled as he picked up his pencil again. Almost as an afterthought, he looked up and yelled after the retreating pair: "Don't you let my boyfriend get wasted."

Jack just replied with the OK sign thrown over his shoulder without looking back. Various other students also replied with their own handsigns, but those were mostly with a single finger.

* * *

Hiccup noticed the first sign while he was still in the hallway. Blurry though his eyes were, he definitely wasn't seeing any light on from inside their apartment. Not all that unexpected—it was 2:15am on a Saturday, Jack was either passed out in their bed or just now leaving the bar. He leaned against the front door, considering falling asleep there. He found himself wishing that he was the size of his father and could just let the door break under him and fall into the apartment. Then he considered falling asleep there again.

The second sign, Hiccup noticed when he kicked open the door. Jack's shoes were in the middle of the hallway in front of the door. Close enough that, despite their great size, Hiccup tripped and lost his balance, narrowly avoiding crashing onto the floor in front of him. Cursing Jack loudly, he picked himself up, kicking at the footwear angrily. At least his boyfriend was home.

The third sign that Hiccup noticed came moments after the second one. The light from the hallway illuminated just enough of the living room for Hiccup to see dozens of rips in the sofa back that had not been there when Hiccup left for thermo this morning. Hiccup wanted to scream.

"'Don't get my boyfriend drunk.' A single, simple request that a normal person would abide by. Jack doesn't even have a drinking problem. This should have been easy. All the time—like what am I supposed to say? 'Hi, please don't let my boyfriend get drunk. He's actually a tiny snake with legs and fur who destroys everything we own when he gets drunk.' 'Why don't you ever have us come over, Hiccup?' 'Well Rapunzel, if you didn't get my pet demon drunk, I wouldn't be afraid to show you an apartment that looked like a domesti—'"

A scurry of claws against the wood floor in the hallway leading to their bed and bath brought Hiccup to his feet again, and the man raced towards the hallway. Naturally, by the time that he arrived, there was no sign of a white feather duster, but Hiccup at least knew which side of the apartment his boyfriend was in.

"Jack, I'm not playing with this. Get your fuck back to sleep—bed—shit. Get your ass back to here."

Getting down on all fours, Hiccup crawled around the bedroom floor. Various dust-and-fur covered miscellany was dragged out from under the bed, then the laundry hamper in the closet was flung open, follow by the curtains almost being ripped off of the walls, blankets being torn off the chair, pillows being flung across the room. Hiccup had to check his own aggression a bit. Typically when Hiccup exposed Jack from his hiding place, the eremite froze and that gave Hiccup a few seconds to catch him. But there was way too much frustration in Hiccup's actions right now, and he did his best to set the blankets he'd just torn from the chair back down and smoothed them out.

Just in time, too, because Hiccup turned around just in time to catch Jack staring directly at him from the hallway, black eyes wide, body in full view, the weasel clearly trying to slink away to the other side of the house.

"Jack where the hel—" Hiccup stopped dead, narrowing his eyes. "What the hell do you have in your mouth?"

In response to Hiccup's question, Jack's lips twitched slightly, the hem of Hiccup's favourite pair of boxers drawing minutely further into the weasel's mouth. The air hung tense and neither of them moved, Jack not even twitching. It was like watching a deer in the headlights.

"C'mere you little—" Hiccup tried to leap forward as he reached out, but managed to snag the bottom of his prosthetic on the tip of the rocking chair that Jack had _insisted_ they needed, and then Hiccup was falling. In the long two seconds during his bodily collapse, Hiccup watched as Jack recoiled instinctively and dashed away down the hall.

Hiccup managed to brace himself on the bed and recovered quickly, able to hear the retreating clawing sounds, followed by a screech of nails along the tile floor and a gentle thump, then more clawing sounds. Foot untangled, Hiccup chased his boyfriend out of the bedroom.

Judging from the sound of Jack retreating, he had run the full length of the tile hallway, running fast enough that he'd crashed into the wall on the other end of the apartment when he tried to turn, and then continued off to the left towards the spare bedroom that they used as a study. This left Hiccup with the advantage. There was only one way in or out of the study, and the floor of that hallway was tile; if Jack had doubled back and tried to leave, Hiccup would have heard it. The obnoxious white pool noodle was in the study, and if the door that Hiccup closed after him as he entered the study had any bearing in the matter, Jack was going to remain in here.

"Jack it is 2:30 in the morning and I want to go to bed. Get out here, give me back my underwear, and then get in bed." Hiccup scanned the room. For Jack having run in, it was surprisingly orderly. Actually, that was surprising in and of itself, weasel Jack or otherwise. "I don't care if you shift back or not, but we're going to bed, right now." Hiccup was, more or less, growling.

No movement. No sound. Just Hiccup breathing. Wherever Jack was, he was entrenched and willing to wait Hiccup out. Which, being a shitfaced two foot long wannabe cat, meant that Jack held the upper hand.

Hiccup pulled apart the papers, piles of books, shifted the chairs around. He made short work of the communal homework desk without any sign of Jack, so he moved to look first through his own computer desk, then Jack's. It was an invasion of privacy, sure, but his boyfriend was "missing" and it was his spousal duty to find him. But other than a horde of grimy chocolate bar wrappers in the bottom cabinet of Jack's desk, there was no sign of the manbeast himself. Hiccup let his head fall back in an exasperated sigh, staring at the ceiling. At this point, Hiccup was willing to just let Jack spend the night in the study and wake up naked in the middle of winter on the unforgiving carpet with a massive headache.

Except... Hiccup was never down on his hands and knees like this in the study. The tall bookcase caddy-corner to Jack's desk was where Jack and Hiccup stored their textbooks when they were finished with a class. It was jammed full with dusty textbooks at odd angles. And there was a slight—

Crawling towards the bookcase, Hiccup got down lower to the floor, stretching out before peeking through the weasel-sized hole between two stacked piles of books. The light from the ceiling fan did nothing to break the darkness, but he didn't need it to see the white standing out against the black. With one decisive movement, Hiccup pushed the stacks of books as far apart as they would go, exposing the weasel's hiding place.

There was an unholy wail of angry noises suddenly, Jack hissing loudly and screeching in between. His beady eyes were focused in anger and his posture was primal and defensive.

"Get out he—What in the—?"

A hole had been bored through the back of the bookcase, in through the drywall, where the unmistakable design of Hiccup's long-missing apron was balled up. Off on the right, Hiccup's gloves. Hiccup's favourite pen was thrown carelessly to the side, and Hiccup's Christmas socks were draped over—"Holy shit, Toothless?!"

It was a veritable shrine to Hiccup. With the knowledge of where all of his favourite things had ultimately wound up, it was simple to rewind the thread and realise that each one of these items had gone missing right over the course of the past year after a night that Jack had gotten drunk. Every time Jack got drunk and shifted into a weasel, he must have carried off something or other of Hiccup's into this den, building a nest out of Hiccup. Jack was basically already half-wild when he was in his other form; with enough alcohol to make a grown man black out flowing through a tiny weasel body, Jack probably had no idea he was even in his own home. If Jack was anything like Hiccup's dog growing up, Jack was just taking these items because they made him feel safe for some unknown reason.

Hiccup would be absolutely touched, if it weren't that all of his favourite things stolen away and stuffed in a dusty, cobwebby literal hole in the wall, guarded by a pissed off drunk weasel. Still, it took a significant edge off of the annoyance and anger Hiccup had just been feeling, and it was quite easy to drop his voice down to a friendly, nonthreatening tone.

"Jack, this is really cute. But I need you to come out now. It's time for bed."

There was no way that weasel was going to move. When Hiccup reached his hands in to try and pull Jack out himself, the white-furred animal bit him. Hiccup thought he could catch a glimmer of recognition in Jack's eyes, but trying to imagine what it was like being a drunk weasel, Hiccup was a Big Bad trying to destroy Jack's safe haven. There was no way that Jack was leaving unless he wanted to.

And so Hiccup waited, holding Jack's unblinking eye contact as the two had a silent showdown of wills that lapsed into minutes. Hiccup was losing, his eyes beginning to shut out of tiredness and how amazingly soft and comfortable the carpet in the study was. Why had he never decided to take a nap here before, this was amazing.

Opening his eyes after not realising they had been closed (for how long?), Jack had curled himself into a ball—still paying attention to Hiccup—on top of Hiccup's apron. Which somehow managed to worm an idea into Hiccup's head through the fog of sleep.

Jack was still curled up on the apron when Hiccup returned, bending down to Jack's level. Black eyes followed Hiccup as he trailed his blanket into view.

"Here. This is my favourite blanket. It's the one that I sleep with every night. Here, take a smell of it, it smells like me." Hiccup fed the corner of the blanket in through the cave, and Hiccup knew he had Jack when the weasel not only didn't bite him, but sniffed at the corner of the blanket inquisitively. "I'll make a trade with you—if you come out, I'll let you sleep with this blanket."

It was apparent that some of Hiccup's words had gotten through to Jack. To make sure his message was fully received, Hiccup stretched back, flattening the blanket out on top of him and patting the top of it, before laying down and attempting to look as nonthreatening as possible.

Hiccup rolled his head to the side and watched as Jack hesitantly moved towards the edge of the bookcase, sniffing at the air questioningly, and then—about as close to the ground as a creature could get while leaving its skeletal structure intact—Jack inched towards the hem of the blanket before poking his nose at it. It took him another five minutes to fully move onto the blanket, and that was still as far away from Hiccup as he could possibly get.

Hiccup, for his part, was done. There was no way that he was going to get Jack back to bed, and there was only an 80% chance he'd be able to get himself back to bed if he left right now. The carpet in the study was going to have to cut it for tonight, and so with hands up in a placating and nonthreatening manner, Hiccup extracted himself from under the blanket and rounded it, moving for the light switch. Jack didn't take his eyes off of Hiccup the whole time, and Hiccup had to be very careful about where he put his feet in the darkness. Once he was back safely to his half of the one-person blanket, he set himself down gently and fumbled with his prosthetic and set it aside.

Then Hiccup was out like a light.

* * *

He woke up at some point in the night when he felt a slight weight disturb him. Looking down at his chest, his weasel boyfriend was curled up in a tight ball, sound asleep and probably out for quite some time.

He weighed significantly less in this form and Hiccup had very little trouble falling back asleep with the added weight.

* * *

The sun was far, far too bright for Jack's tastes. And the tastes in his mouth were revolting and Jack really wanted no idea what had been in there the night before. If his head weren't currently experiencing a 9.2 on the Richter scale, he would have gone back to sleep in an instant. He chose to do the best he could and rolled over on his side.

"—iiiiiccuppp. Wha' iz this?" Jack held up the offending item, squinting as Hiccup moved into the door frame from the hallway.

"That, my love, is a camera."

"Yeah but why."

"I want you to take a picture of the little den you built over the past year." Jack squinted at Hiccup in utter confusion, trying to figure out what he was talking about as Hiccup disappeared back in the direction of the kitchen.

"The taping knife on the other side of you is for you to patch up the hole once you've taken the picture and put my stuff back, because I sure as hell am getting my portion of the security deposit back," Hiccup called from down the hall.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this adorable video](http://ahhhlec.tumblr.com/post/149620276531/cloudfreed-uglyrad-thebestoftumbling-a). I wrote this like forever ago but then Sabrina had to do the art and then I only just got around to revising it now because I'm working on another story (and then got super sick). Art by the amazing [Sabrina aka coldfeetwarmflames](http://coldfeetwarmflames.tumblr.com/)—please go check her out and reblog like all of her art because she deserves it so much.


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